Sam's Hunger Games
by nevergone4ever
Summary: It's basically the same, but Clove's replaced with Sam Puckett. This, of course, creates a ton of turmoil in the arena... :o I might not finish.


Uh, hi. I'm Samantha Puckett and I live in District Two. I've been training my whole life for the Hunger Games, and my wish will come true. I'm now seventeen, and I've made the tough choice to volunteer.

The first memory I have of training is of when I was eight and Dad had just given me my first spear- a nice, long one made of willow. It had a sharp shaft tip, and I called it Speara. I threw it at the sandbag dummy and struck it in the heart or neck every time, never missing. Kids at school came around to calling me Sam the Spear, which I hated.

I have a best friend, Clove, who's really good with knives. Kids at school call her Clove the Ka-nife. She really hates it too, which is why I guess we've come to be such good friends.

Today was the day of the Reaping. I grabbed my best spear out of my collection of twenty-one, a thin copper shaft with a grooved white gold tip. I threw on my tawny denim pants, black sneakers, and a black button-up shirt with golden buttons. I threw my long, curly blond hair into a high ballerina bun and checked the mirror. Good.

I dashed out into my backyard and threw myself over the fence to a cherry blossom orchard. This was my and Clove's rendezvous.

I saw her in her Reaping dress and black slacks underneath for hunting. "Hey, Clove!" I teased her. "Did Mumsy make you wear your oh-so-pretty dress this morning?"

Clove snapped some brown gum. Chocolate orange, I could smell. "Nah, I just don't wanna get outta my huntin' shirt and back into this crap of a dress." The brunette lifted her black leather jacket to show me the yellow and white fabric ruffles of the dress and sneered. "So called 'Mumsy' would have a fit if she knew I was out here with my Reapin' dress." Clove snapped her gum again.

"So I guess this is our last morning together," I said sadly. Clove nodded. She knew about my plan to get Reaped. She knew I wanted the glory, such a fame monster.

"You don't have to do it." Her words cut through my mood like a knife that's been in the freezer too long.

"Why?" I shot back at my best friend.

Clove shrugged. "Well, if you're sad about it, then don't volunteer. Simple as that. Or maybe someone will volunteer before ya. Ever thought of that?"

I shook my head. "But the thing is, I need this chance. If I don't do it, my whole life will be wasted. You know that, right?"

Clove stuck her tongue in her cheek and looked at the pink sunrise. "Yeah, I guess. But you might not come back."

I scowled at her. "But I will. You know I've been waiting my whole life for this."

Clove nodded. "Might as well sign up for, like, a hundred tesserae then," she joked. I could tell she was trying to make the best of this.

"But we live in District Two. We don't need tesserae."

Clove bit her lip. "Oh, yeah. Sam, I was only joking, though." It was so sad to see my tough best friend _being_ sad. I reached out my hand and set it on her shoulder.

"I will come back, you know," I said to her. Clove's eyes were the tiniest bit wet, and she nodded.

"You have to win, for District Two."

"Of course I will," I soothed her. Clove smiled.

"Good. But I have to go help me little sisters get ready now, though. This might be our last private time together before you leave besides right after the Reaping. You know, in the other ones there's–"

"Peacekeepers," I finished for her.

Clove nodded. "Right. Here's what I want you to make your token, though." She pressed a small white gold necklace into my hand, with a little spear charm. White gold. Just like my necklace.

I looked at her in surprise. "Th-thanks," I stuttered. Clove gave me a brisk hug and darted back her little trail to her home. I clambered over the fence and into our family's kitchen.

"Morning, Mom."

"You're volunteering, right?" I nodded. "Good. You'll win. All the shame Melanie brought to the family was unspeakable."

My sister Melanie volunteered at fifteen and lost in the bloodbath to an axe by a girl named Johanna. Mom's tried to live it down ever since.

"What if I lose?" I ask her.

"No. You're sturdier than Melanie. Better with weapons. All she did was get a sponsor as soon as she went into the arena."

I remembered that, when the gong went off a silver parachute drifted over to her containing an adz. Then Johanna beat her to the Cornucopia and threw an axe in her forehead and neck. That was just gross. Melanie was the second to die because she twitched to death a bit.

I wolfed down my cereal and went upstairs to pick a Reaping dress. I had four to pick from. The first was frilly and orange. Feathered at the bottom, strapless. The second was butter-lemon yellow down to my knees. The third was a creamy rose pink with splashes of white thrown in. The last was another orange one, a one-strapped that ended just above my knees. I chose the third one. My direction could be girly and Career-ish. _But you're not from One_. The thought bounced through my head as I brushed my dirty blond hair out.

"A high bun," I murmured, and twisted my hair into a high ponytail. Then I twirled it so that it was a tight ballerina bun. Lastly, I set it with a clear hairband. It looked professional, as before she had died Melanie had taught me how to do this and a couple more hairstyles.

I then went to my bathroom and glammed up my eyes with some heavy mascara, and put on my favorite lip gloss, cherry lime. Then I lined them with a light pink and dusted my cheeks with the smallest amount of purple-pink-ish blush and pink diamond earrings, specially imported from District One.

I spent time with my baby brother Thomas until the Reaping. Then my mom, Thomas, and my father walked with me to the enormous town square.

Yadda, yadda, yak, yak, yak. I tuned out the mayoral speech and the woman Lilia's speech. Then when I leaned forward to hear.

"Candace Burkenhoven!"

"I volunteer!" I screeched above many other girls. Lilia smiled, unsurprised, and pointed at a girl… ME!

I flashed a huge grin and bounded up to the stage. Maybe my charm, my loudness, my pure beauty, whatever, I'm a Hunger Games DIVA now!

The boy's some kid named Cato, but I don't listen to his preaching about how this is his dream. Although it is mine. I instead say goodbye to my family and Clove, and I'm not trusting the Peacekeepers when they say that they'll escort me and Cato together. They lie.

On the train, I first ate as much charbroiled turkey legs as I could before actually listening to our mentor, Brutus. He's a muscular guy, and when I ask to feel his muscles he flexes them with pride.

Night fell quickly. The train stopped at the Capitol, since we are the closest district to it. Check the map if you don't believe me. You'll see that our town square is only a few hundred miles from it, plus we have the second-fastest train, next to One. But that's OK, because they're Career districts as well.

I grabbed my bags and Cato and I flounced off the train. The hotel we were at was very bright, a candy pink with bright white windowsills and many fountains lining the street in front of it. I entered the door and flipped my long blond hair.

"Heya, ladies and germs," I emphasized the word germs. That's what I thought of them. Diseases.

"Room?" asked one with golden hair and a monotone, bored voice.

"I dunno, ask Brutus," I said to them.

This was getting off to a _great_ start.


End file.
